Possibility Days
by seven dragons
Summary: This story takes place after S3 E6 and looks at what might have happened if Blake actually reacted to Jean saying she was leaving. Told from Blake's perspective. Slightly angsty Lucien/Jean romancefloof.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This story takes place at the end of S3 E6, when Jean tells Blake she is thinking about moving. It has never set well with me the way Blake reacted (or didn't react) to the news. Even if he wasn't going to pour his heart out to her, he could have discussed it, or asked her if she was coming back, or shook her hand and wished her well - something other than ignoring the situation until the last possible minute! So this is an alternate version of what could have happened. I intend to write at least 2 chapters, maybe 3. The title is a song by the Counting Crows that talks about missed opportunities with the one you love, and was stuck in my head all through S4. It could be the theme for the entire series.  
**

...

Jean's words hit him like a ton of bricks. She was moving to Adelaide. She said she hadn't decided but the loan application in front of him suggested otherwise. He signed it simply because she asked, and had no had time to absorb the news before Matthew Lawson showed up at their door.

Matthew and Lucien spent the rest of the morning in his study, recounting events in both Melbourne and Ballarat, and plotting a strategy for the challenges to come. They spent the afternoon at the police station getting caught up on official business. Lucien felt that his presence might blunt Munro's attempts at humiliating Matthew on the first day. He came home well past dinner time. He took a few bites of the now cold dinner Jean had left for him and went straight into his study.

He pulled a whiskey bottle out of his desk drawer along with a glass and poured a double. He stared at the desk, not even pretending to be working on anything in particular, and tried to understand what was happening. They had grown close over the past few months. He wasn't sure when it started. He had not expected it, but it was welcome. He recalled the day that a mob attacked the house looking for Jean's son. Brave to the point of foolishness, Jean had confronted them and got thrown to the ground. He nearly beat to death the man who pushed her. He would have come to the aid of any woman in that situation - any man who was worth something would. But it was the sight of them hurting Jean, _his_ Jean, that pushed him to the point of madness. Later that day when he was comforting her, he forgot himself and almost kissed her. When Jean pulled away, Lucien feared that it would be the end of their friendship.

Instead they relied on each other even more. Jean seemed less reserved around him. Her face would brighten when he walked through the door each day. At least, that's what he imagined he was seeing. If he was gone too long on a case, she would pop by the police station to check up on him. Jean had a keen intellect and more common sense than he ever had, and Lucien had come to depend on her good judgement. For the first time in many years, Lucien felt he could trust someone. He confided in Jean about some of his past, including the guilt he felt over his daughter. He knew Jean would never use what he told her to hurt him.

Lucien poured himself another drink. It was late, and Lucien realized that Jean had not come by to say good night. He did not take this as a good sign. Jean always came in to wish him good night. It was his favorite time of the day, one quiet moment shared between just the two of them. He often found himself staring after her, willing her to turn around and invite him upstairs, to turn towards his room, to fall into his arms - any of the things he didn't have the courage to do. He wondered if that was the reason she was leaving, because he hadn't given her a reason to stay. The thought now occurred to him that maybe she had been unhappy the whole time. Maybe she was making do as best she could in a difficult situation with a difficult person. Lucien uncorked the bottle of whiskey and topped off his glass.

A few weeks ago, Jean had a minor part in a play at the Colonist's Club. It was her birthday. Jean was so excited to be working with a famous actress that she didn't care that all she did was stand in the background. Lucien had planned to bring her flowers after the show. No one would question the occasion, and he hoped it might be the start of something. The start of what, he didn't know. He wanted Jean to see that he cared. But when Jean invited her son to the show he thought better of it. He didn't want to have to make an awkward excuse, or worse, to have Jean make one. Later that night, trapped for hours in the club working a case, William Munro mocked him. He said his housekeeper had defended him during an interview and lectured Munro about listening to him. Munro called her a stupid women. It took all of Lucien's self control not to make Munro the second man he almost beat to death for hurting Jean. But he came away from that evening feeling hopeful. Maybe Jean cared for him too.

And now she was leaving. Lucien finished his drink in one gulp, slammed his glass onto the desk, and stood up. He left the study and slowly climbed the stairs to Jean's room. Despite the late hour, the light was still on. Part of him hoped she'd be asleep and he'd have an excuse to turn back. He knocked quietly. Jean answered the door. She was wearing light pink pajamas and her dark curls were falling lose around her neck. Lucien suppressed a smile. No matter how smart she dressed, Lucien liked her this way the best. She was a proud woman who was always careful about her appearance. Standing in her bedroom with pink wallpaper, light pajamas, and a pink dressing gown she looked delicate and vulnerable, and Lucien was the only man who got to see her this way. He was well aware that this was mere circumstance and that Jean would rather he not, but Lucien cherished it as if it were just for him. He imagined what it would feel like to run his hands through those curls.

"Yes?"

He forced his attention back to the room. Jean was still standing there, looking annoyed now. He wondered if she knew he had been drinking.

"May I sit down?"

"Of course."

Lucien took a seat on the chair next to the dressing table. "So you're moving to Adelaide."

"Well, I'm thinking about it. Ruby needs help with the baby."

Lucien paused. He was making it up as he went along. "Here's an idea. Why don't you let me loan you the money? We can work out a payment plan when you get back."

Jean looked at him sympathetically. "I don't know if I am coming back, Lucien."

Lucien took a deep breath. He had to know. "Jean have you been unhappy here? Have I done something wrong?"

"No! I..." Jean stared at the floor. "I...we...it's been wonderful. But my son needs me. And I've been thinking a lot lately. I've lived here a long time. I never intended to stay after your father died. Maybe it's time for a fresh start, a chance to live my own life."

Lucien stood up and took a step towards her. He took hold of Jean's hand and clasped it between both of his. "The truth is Jean, I've very much come to think of it as _our_ life." He took another step closer and lowered his voice. "Jean, I hope you know I care for you a great deal."

It was now or never. He took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and froze. Jean's face was stricken with fear. Suddenly Lucien realized that he had put her in a terribly unfair position. He had come upstairs half drunk in the middle of the night, cornered her in her bedroom, and made an advance towards her while she was barely dressed. He could feel the heat rising underneath his collar. He couldn't have felt more foolish. He dropped her hand and quickly took a step back. He tried to sound lighthearted and casual.

"Why don't you consider staying in Adelaide for a few months, as long as you need. Help take care of that little one! And when the baby is older you can come back. Just think about it."

Jean nodded and walked towards the door, clearly waiting to close it behind him. "I will," she said gently. "I promise."

The next day Lucien apologized at the first possible opportunity. He felt that it was the only honorable thing to do, and hoped he could salvage the situation. To his relief, she was not angry. She said she really would consider what he said. Two weeks later they were standing at the bus stop. He knew he had not fought hard enough to keep her. But as the days wore on he realized the only thing that felt worse than losing her was being the person who came between her and her family. Lucien understood more than anyone the pain of not being able to be there for your children. He put on a game face and tried to act as if she were just headed on an outing. He tried to read Jean's mood but it was impossible. She was so calm and pleasant that he wondered if she had any regard for him at all. He hugged her and made her promise she'd write. When the bus drove off, he stared after it, watching a piece of himself drive off to Adelaide.


	2. Chapter 2

Jean had been gone six months. A new housekeeper, Mrs. Toohey, came in four days a week to clean and cook, though she wasn't very good at the latter. Lucien didn't see the point of taking on another housekeeper full time. He had never needed one in the first place. Formerly the live-in house keeper of a local priest, Mrs. Toohey was a kind, if peculiar woman. She never quite fit in to their somewhat erratic household but she managed well enough.

Lucien missed Jean terribly. Anyone could keep house and cook (except perhaps Mrs. Toohey) but he missed her presence. He would sit in the living room in the evenings and read the paper and the silence was crushing. He missed the sound of the clicking of knitting needles, the rustling of sewing, the sound of her voice cheerfully chatting away to Mattie or telling him the day's gossip. He missed just feeling her in the same room as him. Mattie was fine company but it was not the same. Feeling the loss of her companion, Mattie was spending much more time out of the house with friends. Charlie kept to himself more than ever. The whole house seemed in mourning for someone who was, for all intents and purposes, alive and just fine. The passage of time had not eased the sense of loss.

Above all, he missed having her there to say good night to. He missed that precious moment where it felt briefly like they were the only two people in the whole world. Lucien had insisted that Mrs. Toohey leave Jean's room exactly the way it was on the day she left. He could not bear to see it changed. When no one was around Lucien would go up there and sit on the bed, trying to feel her presence. She had left a few things behind - some hair pins, a cardigan, and a single earring. Lucien often wondered if this was a promise from Jean to return. Or maybe she was trying to give him a reason to go see her? He knew in his heart it was the sign of a hasty retreat. In her hurry to leave she had been uncharacteristically sloppy. Lucien took the earring and put it in the desk in his study, in the same drawer he kept his whiskey bottle in.

In six months Jean never wrote to him, not as such. She exchanged letters with Mattie several times a month. She always included a greeting for Lucien, and sometimes a bit of news or a story that Mattie was to tell him. But she never wrote him directly. During this time he had received several other letters from Adelaide, business correspondence from a doctor there. Each time one of those letters arrived his hopes would rise when he saw the postmark, and each time he would be disappointed. Lucien never wrote either, or more accurately he never sent any letters. He had sat down at least half a dozen times to write her. Each time, he ended up pouring his heart out onto the page and ended up tossing the letter in the bin, embarrassed by his own emotions.

On yet another painfully quiet night he sat in his study, contemplating a letter from Adelaide that did not come from Jean. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass and stopped, noticing the shining knot of gold in the back of the drawer. He had forgotten he had left the earring there. After several drinks he finally took out a pad and wrote.

"Dear Jean,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am going to be traveling to Adelaide on business in two weeks. I hope we can visit while I am in town.

Yours,

Lucien"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Adelaide is a big town and I am pretty sure everything is not a 5 minute walk from everything else. I am invoking the same privilege that TV show writers use when someone can drive from any point in Los Angeles or London to any other point in 2 minutes, no matter how far or what the traffic is like. :)**

...

Lucien stepped off the bus in Adelaide. He would have preferred to drive but his dad's car would never have survived the trip. The long bus ride gave him too much time to think. He wrote Jean two weeks ago, which means she would have only received the letter a few days before he arrived. A reply could not have reached him, and there was no guarantee that she had replied. What right did he have to insert himself into her new life? He knew from Mattie's letters that she was happy. He almost got back on the bus. Instead he reminded himself that he really did have business to conduct, and he needed to see Jean first.

He spent the next day wandering the city, visiting a few sights and more than a few bars, avoiding the prospect of facing her. The second day was spent doing much of the same. Finally late the next morning, he walked over to Keswick Barracks. He stood in front of the Beazley quarters for several minutes, trying to figure out what to say. Only when he realized that he was attracting the attention of passers-by did he finally knock. When he heard a familiar, loud voice on the other side of the door shout "I'll get it!" his heart caught in his throat. Jean opened the door and much to his relief her face beamed to see him. She embraced him warmly, like an old friend, and invited him in. Christopher was home for lunch and Ruby was there too. Lucien had not planned on spending time with Jean's family but the friendly chaos of the small house made his reaquaintance with Jean feel easier. He ate lunch with them and spent several hours catching up with Jean's life, trading army stories with Christopher, and sharing news from Ballarat. Amelia took a liking to Lucien and she was content to sit on his knee, gurgling happily while doing her best to remove fistfuls of his beard. After a while Lucien realized he didn't have a reason to stay any longer and took his leave. Jean saw him to the door and was smiling broadly. Lucien noticed with regret that Adelaide seemed to agree with her.

"Lucien it's been so good to see you. Thank you so much for coming over."

Lucien started to thank her for lunch and found himself paralyzed. He knew he needed to go, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving. He might have stood there, staring at her indefinitely if the sight of Christopher moving in the background hadn't brought him to his senses. He smiled and tried not to sound too breathless.

"Jean, I'm staying at a hotel downtown, why don't you have tea with me tomorrow afternoon."

When Jean nodded cheerfully and said "Alright then, I think I will," Lucien resisted the temptation to embrace her and politely said goodbye.

They met the next afternoon in the restaurant of Lucien's stately hotel. The blue carpet and white moldings gave the whole room the feel of a bygone era. Lucien could hardly contain himself and desperately hoped she didn't notice the state he was in. They sat and talked for a long while. Jean told him about her flat and about the sights worth seeing while he was in town. Lucien told Jean about some of the police cases he didn't want to discuss in front of her family. Somehow in the span of an hour Jean managed to solve two of them. For a brief while, it felt as if she'd never left. Suddenly Jean stopped talking. She looked down into her tea cup and a shadow passed over her face.

"You never wrote me."

"You never wrote me either."

"I wrote to Mattie."

"That's not the same thing."

Lucien cursed the awkward silence that was rapidly building between them. They had been so close once, how did they get to this point? He quickly tried to change the subject.

"Do you miss Ballarat?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes!" Jean seemed relieved for the topic change. "There's so much I miss. I miss my house, the sewing circle, the drama club, Mattie and Charlie of course. But most of all I miss my garden."

Lucien resisted the temptation to ask her if she missed him, too. It stung that he wasn't on her list. He wondered if she realized the number of times she used the word "my" in referring to the life they once shared.

Before he could respond Jean looked at her watch. "Heavens we've been here over two hours! It's getting late. I should be going."

"I'll walk you home." Lucien stood up and grabbed her coat before she could answer either way.

Jean's apartment block was in a quiet but unfashionable part of town. Lucien stared up at the drab cement building and felt a growing anger rising in his chest. The building was so...common. He imagined Jean in a small, dingy flat, doing the best she could to brighten it up with house plants. Jean should not be living in a place like this. _His_ Jean deserved better, and he should be providing it. Lost in thought, Lucien almost didn't notice Jean was thanking him for the tea and saying goodnight. He took his hat off and managed a quick good night before she turned and headed up the gray stairs that lead to her building. Lucien's gaze followed her, and he found himself again willing Jean to turn around, to run back to him, to invite him inside. Silently he begged her not to leave his presence but her key was turning in the front door.

"Jean."

Jean turned to face him. Her face was a mixture of expectation and apprehension. It reminded him of the night he came into her room all those months ago, asking her for answers to questions he was afraid to ask. He felt embarrassed just standing there.

"Yes, Lucien?"

Lucien tried to sound cheerful. "You know I've been in town four days and I haven't seen the ocean. Have dinner with me tomorrow. After we can go for a walk down by the sea."

Jean smiled politely. "I promised Christopher and Ruby I'd cook dinner tomorrow night."

"Then meet me after."

A faint smile passed over Jean's face. "Alright. Tomorrow then." Jean turned the key and went inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews and the follows. This has been great fun to write. There will be one last chapter after this one.**

...

Jean met Lucien outside his hotel. It was a warm spring evening and they walked down the Esplanade towards the boardwalk. Lucien was giddy at the sight of the sea. He had spent most of his adult life near one ocean or another but he never paid it much attention. Now he was fascinated by the sight of the sunlight playing on the water and the smell of sea spray. When a strong breeze blew Jean's hat onto the beach Lucien insisted on running out into the sand after it. He refused to give it back after. He pretended to be holding it out of chivalry but really it was another piece of her that he didn't want to part with. They spent a long time watching the dolphins play in the surf. Even the pelicans seemed novel, flying in precision formation inches from the water. Somewhere on the boardwalk Lucien realized they were walking arm in arm. He was sure he hadn't done it intentionally and almost pulled away out of respect for Jean. He then realized that if he hadn't taken her arm, she must have taken his, and he tried to enjoy the closeness and not react to it. Lucien was an affectionate man by nature, sometimes too much, and he didn't know why he was so nervous about it now. They turned onto the long wooden jetty that stretched out into the water. The warm weather had brought out many people, but as the evening wore on the crowds started to thin. Lucien and Jean paused half way down, watching the sun dip lower over the sea. They stood shoulder to shoulder against the railing, and Lucien observed that if Jean minded she wasn't showing it. Jean turned towards Lucien and suddenly had a serious tone in her voice.

"Lucien, why are you really here? You said you were in town on business but you haven't said a word about it."

Lucien stared out over the water a long time before replying. "I have been corresponding for a few months with Dr. Preston in Glenelg. He is retiring and moving to Bendigo to be closer to his family. He is looking for someone to take over his practice."

Jean appeared to be physically jolted by the news. She stammered, "But...Ballarat is your home! Your patients...your father's house!"

Lucien turned to face her, his voice adamant. "Yes, my father's house in my father's town, Jean. Ballarat was never my home, not until I found you there. My patients can be transferred to other doctors, I'm not the only one. Jean, I..." His voice was starting to crack a little the way it always did when he was nervous. Lucien could hear it but forced himself to press on. He took a deep breath and held one of Jean's hands in his. "I care for you so much. I don't want to spend another second of my life without you. The house is just a house. You're what made it a home, you and I, together. My heart isn't in Ballarat. It's in Adelaide, with you. And it will be in Perth or Brisbane or Hobart if you go there."

Lucien put both hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. Now that the words were flowing, he couldn't stop them. "And I did write you, every month. I just never sent the letters. I was afraid that if I told you how I felt that you'd never speak to me again and I'd lose you forever."

Lucien could see Jean was struggling to take in everything he said. He decided to bring things back to business. "If Dr. Preston accepts my offer, I can relocate within a few months and start seeing patients soon after. You can live near Christopher and the baby, and I," Lucien now looked at the ground nervously. He feared he'd said too much. "Well maybe you and I could see each other from time to time."

Jean gave him an incredulous look. "See each other from time to time?"

Lucien looked back up at her hopefully. "Jean I want us to be so much more. That is..." suddenly he found he could barely get the words out. His voice was barely above a whisper. "That is, if you'll have me."

He looked at Jean. Her face was once again an inscrutable mask. She turned away from him, leaned on the railing of the jetty and looked out over the sea. She could not have looked away for more than a few seconds before she spoke, but to Lucien it felt like an eternity. The sun was setting onto the horizon, its red rays reaching across the water towards them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Lucien looked at Jean. Her patterned green dress made her eyes reflect a pale green, even in the fading light. The setting sun picked out flecks of auburn in her hair. A single strand had come loose in the ocean breeze. Lucien couldn't stop staring at her.

"Yes. Yes it is."

He reached across the railing with one hand and caressed her cheek. Gently he turned her head to face him, leaned in close, and kissed her. She did not pull away this time. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his chest. "Lucien I've missed you so much," she said breathlessly. "I've missed you every day."

Lucien felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him. He could no longer think clearly and saw no reason to try. They stood there, with their arms around each other, sharing each other's secrets until long after the sun went down.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucien stepped through the doorway of his home in Ballarat eight days after he left. He'd spent the remainder of the week in Adelaide, stealing precious afternoons and evenings with Jean. His head was swimming those last few days and he barely remembered any of it, just the sensation of how warm she felt when he held her. He might not have returned to Ballarat at all if Jean hadn't forced the issue. He had responsibilities in Ballarat and he could not avoid them forever, Jean had said. As usual she was right. Jean had promised to return in a few months. The baby was getting older and sleeping through the night, and Jean already sensed she was no longer needed as urgently as before. Ruby would soon be able to manage on her own. Jean considered his offer of moving to Adelaide seriously. She'd grown fond of the town but she missed her community and her home. And she pointed out that as an army officer, Christopher would likely be transferred soon, so settling there for his sake would be fruitless.

"We can't pick up and move every three years just to follow him around the globe."

Lucien had grinned at that. The only part of that sentence to mattered to him was "we."

A stack of letters was neatly piled on the desk in Lucien's study. He thumbed through them briskly looking for anything urgent. A letter from Adelaide immediately caught his eye. It was the reply from Jean, arrived in the post just the day before he came home. He set the letter aside and considered throwing it out, not willing to face the possibility that she had intended to reject him. However curiosity got the better of him and he opened it a few minutes later. The letter was short and friendly. She was happy he was coming to Adelaide and could not wait to see him. She gave the address of her and Christopher's homes and asked him to call as soon as he got to town. But there was something else to the letter. Faint after a week, but still there, was the subtle hint of perfume. It was the perfume that Jean only wore to go out on special occasions, the only time she wore perfume at all. The message was unambiguous. Even at his most unsure Lucien could not have misinterpreted it. It was floating up from the paper in large cursive letters:

 _Come find me._

Lucien thought about the weeks of self doubt and torture leading up to the trip. He thought of the number of times he considered getting back on the bus, leaving Jean to conduct her life in Adelaide in peace. He recalled the sleepless nights in Adelaide, wondering if Jean was simply too polite to reject him and how he would ever know what she wanted. And Jean, who must have known when he arrived that he missed her letter, and that they were both stepping into the situation blindly. She must have felt equally at a loss. She had been waiting for him, and he didn't know it. Lucien looked down at the letter in wonder, and suddenly the humor of the situation overtook him. He broke out into a peal of laughter that was so loud it sent Mrs. Toohey running into his office. It was several minutes before Lucien could regain his breath and assure her that everything was fine. He put the letter in his desk drawer, next to the gold earring that he did not intend to return.

Lucien had not had a chance to unpack his bags before the phone rang. It was Matthew Lawson. An incident had occurred during a motor race and a young mechanic was crushed to death under a car. It was certainly an accident but because of the high profile nature of the event, the police were called in to investigate. The evidence pointed to something more suspicious, and before long Lucien was wrapped up in another murder case. Then the unthinkable happened. An attack on two police officers, two men whom Lucien considered family. Charlie and Matthew were both hospitalized, and Matthew's fate was uncertain. Lucien spent his days trying to push the case forward while spending as much time as possible at the hospital looking after his charges. It was there in the hospital lobby that the dream of the past week and the harsh reality of the present suddenly merged together. It was Jean, standing in the hallway outside of Matthew's room talking to a nurse. She had heard the news of Matthew and Charlie and come running all the way from Adelaide. His heart leaped into his throat and for a moment he was nervous. Adelaide was a world away, it felt unreal. Would things be the same between them in Ballarat? Her smile told him all he needed to know and he came rushing over.

There was no time for a reunion. The police needed to make an arrest before the race resumed and scattered the suspects to the four winds. Lucien and Jean both needed to tend to the injured. Before all was said and done Lucien almost became the next murder victim and would have died if it wasn't for Jean's bravery. It was another week before Lucien's life resembled anything like normal again. Jean decided to stay in Ballarat for a while. She claimed someone had to look after Matthew and Charlie. Lucien hoped there was more to it than that, but didn't feel the need to press the issue. Jean was back with him where she belonged. It was early one afternoon that Lucien found Jean in the sun room, working hard at restoring her plants to their former glory. It was the first moment of quiet they'd had since she returned. Lucien came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. Ever so subtly, Jean pressed backwards towards him. Lucien squeezed his arms around her tighter and whispered into her ear, "Welcome home."


End file.
